


Adventum

by oviparous



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Friendship, Gaming, M/M, Romance, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12254952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviparous/pseuds/oviparous
Summary: A group of young twenty-somethings can't be best friends anymore because of how they feel about each other, and Nino wants to use his virtual reality game to fix that--with some help from his new friend, Jun.





	1. Layers

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting this as I write, so I apologise in advance for any delays.
> 
> Also, very important note: Rasmussem is a nod to one of my favourite authors of all time, Vivian Vande Velde. In 1991 she wrote a book called _User Unfriendly_ , with similar imaginations (i.e. you literally experience a role-playing game). This became the first book of the Rasmussem Corporation series. I've borrowed the name because it's truly one of my most adored series, and I hope you guys can check it out!

There’s the chime of a bell, and the Beloveds get in line, melting into the moving circle they form in the centre of the cavernous room. They take one step forward, then another, waiting to be singled out.

“They’re all yours,” chirps the ebullient butler, someone Nino’s learnt to call ‘Kazapon’.

Nino hums. “I’ve never been in a room like this before.”

“It is a _privilege_ ,” stresses Kazapon, “for them to enter your chambers.”

Nino places the Beloved closest to him under scrutiny. It’s a man, slightly taller than he is, and Nino falls into step beside him.

The man is remarkably handsome, all well-defined lines, softened with eyes framed by the prettiest lashes. Nino wonders if he’s Japanese as well, though he wouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t. 

Nino follows this man, tracing the curve of his aimless trajectory. He starts to wonder about the man’s past, his destiny, his purpose: why and how he has ended up here, traipsing along with the other Beloveds on the marble floor?

Nino is master of the manor. He won it, though not by ravaging the territory of an enemy, no, it hadn’t been anything grand like that—he won it through a bet he’d made with his friend Aiba: to land the balls of two _kendama_ in their cups simultaneously. Nino had succeeded on the first try, much to Aiba’s chagrin.

So Aiba let him have the manor and the harem that came with it, and it was obvious from the film of dust under Nino’s feet and the cobwebs in the rafters that Aiba rarely entered this room; perhaps Aiba prefers sex… less decadent?

“Master, is this your only selection for the night?” voices Kazapon as he appears by Nino’s side.

Nino is about to answer when the opening bars of RADWIMPS’s _Zenzenzen-se_ plays through the air, and a voice says:

“Nino, your wallet isn’t in your pocket, and I haven’t got enough money to pay the guy from Keikarou.”

With a sigh Nino raises his eyes to the ceiling and gives the command.

“ _Pause._ ”

***

In real life, Nino is heir to a barbershop, but his profile in the one gaming magazine he's gotten interviewed by describes him as a small YouTuber with lofty aspirations to make it big in the gaming community. He started posting his _Adventum_ plays online two years ago before anyone in Japan had really caught onto it, hoping he could win some viewers from the game’s niche market.

Fast-forward to 2017. _Adventum_ still hasn’t taken off in Japan, and Nino’s subscriber count has been hovering around 4000, stagnating since June. It’s sad.

“You pauper,” grumbles Nino to Aiba, ripping off his visor and finger pads as he gets out of his chair. He looks around for his wallet. It isn’t anywhere in sight.

“He’s waiting,” says Aiba, indicating the open door, where a pot-bellied man sporting a cook’s toque is looking at them balefully. Nino quickly runs into his bedroom, then emerges with a jar full of coins.

“How much is it?”

“A thousand five hundred and ninety-two yen,” says the delivery guy in a deadpan tone.

Nino counts the coins meticulously before dropping the money into the man’s outstretched palm. “Sorry for the trouble. Thank you.”

After Nino shuts the door he goes to the coffee table, where Aiba is waiting cross-legged on the floor, staring at the bags of food, mustering all the self-control he has to not open the containers before Nino sits down. Nino fights a grin. Aiba’s a decent friend, and this quality of his often shines in the most mundane of moments.

“Food!” Aiba cheers as Nino takes his seat. Aiba hands Nino a container of fried rice before grabbing his own, and Nino gets the spoons.

“I’ll pay you back at the end of the month, okay?” says Aiba. “We’re experiencing an exodus of students because one of those big chains opened across the street, and they have the TV commercial and everything.”

Aiba is a full-time Maths tutor at the _juku_ run by his mother, and she’s been managing it alone after Aiba’s father passed away a couple of years ago. They’ve had the business for over twenty years now, and despite Nino’s constant claims that Aiba is an idiot, he can’t deny that Aiba did get into the Tokyo University of Science, graduating from the Engineering faculty with pretty nice marks.

“I’ll put it on your tab,” Nino promises, and gets up to fetch a bottle of tea from the fridge.

It’s right smack in the middle of August, and though their teenaged days of whiling away the summer have long gone, Nino and Aiba are both in the fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on whether you are a glass half-full or glass half-empty kind of person) position of helping to run their respective family businesses, which means their working hours are relatively flexible.

“Aiba-chan,” Nino calls out from the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of tea for Aiba as well, “just now I went into the master’s apartments and visited the harem, and I saw this really pretty guy. He’s about your height, thick eyebrows, nice eyes, might be Japanese. Why do I not know him?”

Nino returns to the living room and sets the tea in front of Aiba, who is munching thoughtfully.

“Why should you know him?” asks Aiba.

“Most of your quest modes I’ve gone in with you, and you had to have defeated him in some way for him to be your slave,” answers Nino. “He’s like a ten. I would’ve noticed him.”

Recognition sparks in Aiba’s eyes. “I have to see his face to confirm it, but I think I overpowered his pirate ship. You know, when I sailed Nereidia and you didn’t want to come because it was an ocean quest.” Aiba shakes his head. “Lame.”

“You know those make me seriously seasick, right? Even worse than being on a real boat?”

“Yeah. You’re really missing out, though.”

Nino stops chewing as he realises one more thing. “So you overpowered the guy’s pirate ship? How did you find the resources to do that if I wasn’t there?”

“I asked Oh-chan to help.” Aiba shifts his eyes away from Nino, embarrassed. “He’d just finished all the sailing missions and seemed like the person to go to.”

Nino does some quick calculations, realises the Nereidia quest must have taken place around the end of winter. He sighs, knowing too well not to broach the subject.

“Anyway, I wonder if that guy in the harem’s still playing?” Nino muses.

“Why do you care?”

“I’m just curious,” Nino’s spoon pauses on its way to his mouth, “you know how in there it’s really rare to meet Japanese people you don’t actually know in real life.”

“Kazapon’s Japanese,” Aiba points out.

“That’s because you _made_ him Japanese. I saw you select his country of origin when you created his profile.” Nino waves a hand dismissively. “And he doesn’t count, he’s a game character.”

“What if Harem Guy’s not Japanese?”

“I don’t care; he’s still cute.”

Aiba sniggers. “Are you saying you’re crushing on a piece of well-crafted code?”

“I’m saying that I’m crushing on the guy with that face. Harem Guy actually played and lost—he exists out there, somewhere. He’s non-fiction. Not to sound judgemental, but I’m not _that_ kind of otaku.”

Aiba takes a swig of tea and considers Nino. “I wonder if he’d planned for his character to enter a harem, or if he chose Surrendered Hereafter. I remember one time I did a quest in Culbraltar, and I met a Beloved me in the palace as an eunuch. An _eunuch_ , Nino. I later found out it was from the story arc where we were child beggars—well, teenaged beggars—you remember that?”

“The second game of Adventum we ever played,” reminisces Nino fondly.

“Yup. I Game Over-ed that time but didn’t die, so my Beloved self stayed within the confines of the narrative. It’s horrifying to think about, even if it’s a product of programming and fiction. The poor guy.” Aiba shakes his head. “I’m sure Harem Dude wouldn’t want to know his character’s now a sex slave.”

The moral ambiguity of the themes in the game is one of the biggest reasons why _Adventum_ is more of an underground thing with a cult following. The crazier modes are banned in Japan, unable to pass censorship laws, with elaborate plays involving the spectrums of every human vice—cannibalism, necrophilia and vivisection are just the first things that come to mind.

“We get the game so cheap because we give Rasmussem rights to our image, you know that,” says Nino, voice bland.

“‘Image’ is a loose term, Nino. Don’t they use the way we play the game to construct some kind of personality for the characters? Eunuch Aiba would have made the same kind of choices as I.”

“Yeah, but you can go around that—by not Game Over-ing, or by planning your demise so you know exactly how they’re using you. You have control over that, at least.” Nino fixes the lid on top of the container, unable to finish all of his food because his brain still thinks he actually ate that hamburg steak during his visit to the manor. “I have a houseman version of me in a castle snitching on lazy servants, and another Beloved forever roaming underground mazes, guiding players to dead ends.”

“You’re awful.”

“Better awful than castrated.”

“Fair point.” Aiba brightens. “I do have a Beloved of me as a bartender in some ritzy joint. I’d planned it with Oh-chan, actually, and the idea was to—”

Aiba stops abruptly, realising what he’s about to say.

Nino clears his throat and gets to his feet, grabbing his container of leftover fried rice. “I’m done. You owe me eight hundred yen, don’t forget.”

“Yeah,” he hears Aiba mumble behind him as he ambles towards the kitchen, and as Nino reaches for the cling wrap he lets out an almighty sigh, wishing that speaking about Ohno wasn’t such a taboo.

***

“That infernal game—you’re still playing it?” asks Sho as Nino trims his bangs.

Sho comes over for a haircut every five weeks, on a Tuesday, like clockwork. Mainly it’s because he knows Aiba works from four to nine on Tuesdays and would never be around at Nino’s when he swings by, but Nino also knows Sho’s the type of person to assign a day of the week to a friend. Nino bets Tuesdays are his.

“It’s not infernal. I find it fascinating; it’s got so many layers, and is more real than a lot of what’s out there on the market,” says Nino, putting down his shears and reaching for the razor. “You can experience some really vivid sensations when you’re hooked up to the system, learn a lot about yourself.”

As the words leave Nino’s mouth he realises how they’ve hit some of Sho’s sore spots about the whole Ohno-Aiba affair, and he revs up his concentration to exact an equal amount of precision to every strand of hair he’s shaving off the nape of Sho’s neck. Sho would see his expression in the mirror; he’d know Nino hadn’t meant it any other way.

“How are you, Nino?” asks Sho quietly after a pregnant pause.

“Hm?” Nino is surprised. “Dude, you text me every other day asking how my day is. I alternate between barber, gamer and YouTuber.”

Sho looks at Nino pointedly. “You know what I mean.”

“Fine,” Nino huffs, “I’m also the occasional friend, the once-in-a-blue-moon lover, the loving son—that I perform twenty-four-seven.”

Sho cracks a smile. “You joke, but I know you’re sad. You weren’t involved, yet you lost something.” Sho stares at Nino through the mirror. “We’ve made it so hard for you. I’m sorry.”

In silence, Nino continues his work on Sho’s hair. He usually likes it a little longer than most men, which makes sense because it’s cold up in the mountains where he works as a ski instructor, but now that it’s summer Sho likes to wear his hair short since he’s cooped up in the company office with a stingy boss that doesn’t turn the air-conditioning any lower than 28 degrees Celsius.

“Have you talked to Ohno-kun lately?” asks Sho as the haircut approaches its end. Nino almost winces at the form of address; Sho calling Ohno anything but ‘Satoshi-kun’ makes how broken their group is a lot more painful and real.

“Yeah.” Nino decides to tell the truth. He knows the three of them aren’t talking to each other—just to him—so he could fib and close the conversation with a simple ‘No’, but Nino’s not like that. He wouldn’t feign ignorance for convenience’s sake, not when it involves people this important to him. “He’s getting used to life in another city. Apparently an island off Kagoshima’s a lot more rural than Tokyo.”

Sho laughs at Nino’s joke, and Nino remembers a time where they all would have.

“I hope he’s doing okay?” asks Sho tentatively.

“He seems to be. I’ll tell him you asked,” Nino replies as he dusts the cut hairs off Sho’s neck with a soft brush.

“No,” Sho says hastily, “it’s all right. Just… I’m just glad to know he’s fine.”

Nino nods. “Yeah. We’re all fine. You, me, Oh-chan, Aiba-kun.” Nino unfastens the cape and squeezes Sho’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”


	2. Hymn

Nino believes that one day, when all the wounds heal, they’ll be together again.

They grew up on the same street, in a homely part of Shinagawa Ward where their parents run mom-and-pop businesses they mostly inherited from their own parents. Nino’s family history has some serious roots in the area, and right after the war Sho’s grandparents opened a pharmacy two doors down. Ohno’s family is further up the street, closest to the train station, and they'd originally been a greengrocer’s, until Ohno’s father decided to revamp things when he took over the company, and made it a supermarket. Aiba’s family arrived last, buying the vacated shophouse right beside the Ninomiya’s barbershop. For a while the Aibas had been the only proprietors on the street who didn’t have the previous generation precede them, and Nino’s family took it upon themselves to be the most hospitable neighbours the Aibas had ever met. This means Nino and Aiba have been playing together since they were wearing nothing but diapers; and now, as Nino follows Aiba into the bathtub, completely naked, he realises that not much has changed, even after 24 years.

Nino lowers himself into the water as Aiba tucks his knees into his chest. He’s got really long legs, but Nino’s on the small side. They fit in the tub.

“Question,” says Nino, “have you ever thought about me as more than a friend?”

Aiba stops wiping his face and pauses, palms turned upward. He’s surprised, hesitant, suspicious; all of those things and more.

“If I say no, will you be offended?” Aiba finally says.

Nino lets out a chortle; he expected this.

“It’s not that I don’t find you attractive,” Aiba quickly continues, sounding just a little defensive, “I mean, look at you.” Aiba sweeps his gaze down and stops when he arrives at Nino’s crotch, smiling benignly. “You have a really nice penis.”

Nino snorts and splashes Aiba with the bathwater, aiming for his face; he splutters and shrieks about how hot it is.

“I’m relieved,” Nino confesses, once Aiba has stopped complaining. “Growing up, finding out I liked all the girls and all the boys was confusing, but I’ve never been confused about how I’ve felt about you. I don’t know how I’ve never liked you any other way, seeing that you ended up not being straight as well, but I look back on the past two decades or so and can tell you with absolute certainty that you’ve never appealed to me sexually. Not in the least.”

Aiba pretends to look offended. “Word choice, you evil little man! You could’ve said you love me like a brother!”

“Hey, ‘little’ is making it personal!” Nino puts up his hands to shield himself from the water Aiba is sending his way. “And I don’t love you like a brother; I know what having a sibling is like and how insufferable they can be, but you’ve never made me feel that way. You’re in your own category, because with my siblings I have to love them, but you—I _choose_ to love you.”

Aiba stops his attack and looks at Nino, evidently moved.

“Where’s all this coming from?” asks Aiba, finding Nino’s toes with his own, underwater.

“Sho-chan came for his haircut this evening,” says Nino simply, and lets his words sink in.

“I don’t get it,” answers Aiba, brow furrowing.

“Idiot,” teases Nino, and gets a face full of bathwater. He’s quite dignified about it and doesn’t try to avoid the onslaught, simply swiping his hand down his face before blinking away the drops that have settled on his lashes. He deserves it, after all; Aiba can’t possibly enjoy being called stupid.

“What has Sho-chan getting his haircut got to do with you confessing your love for me?” Aiba leans back against the tub, angling his head on the wall.

“We talked a little bit about Oh-chan,” says Nino, and he sees the way Aiba’s shoulders stiffen, “just the usual ‘how is he’ and ‘don’t tell him I said hi’, and it got me thinking how each of us view each other. The kind of love we harbour for each other, and how the lines get blurred just because we’re capable of loving each other romantically.”

“Okay…” Aiba answers, keeping his eyes on the ceiling, not looking at Nino.

“You know in the beginning it was just Oh-chan and I who were sure that we weren’t straight, which was how we got really close since we came together for support and all?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you and Sho-chan were just being nice and hanging out with us until one day you blurted how you might like guys and Sho-chan was like ‘me too’ and suddenly we were like, ‘oh, so that’s why we never really wanted to play with the other boys growing up’?”

Aiba chuckles. “That’s one way to sum it up.”

“I was super attracted to Oh-chan back then, you have no idea.”

“I have every idea, you ass. A huge chunk of junior high third year was spent listening to you whine about how you’d casually confessed and how he’d always say no.”

Nino laughs before a thought occurs to him. “Did you like him back then? Did I plant the idea in your head?”

Aiba ponders this. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He sits up straight, sloshing some water out of the tub. “Unlike you, however, I’ve actually thought about you and me having sex, so it might not have been Oh-chan who tickled my gay bone.”

Nino’s eyes widen and he makes a move to get out of the bath. Aiba laughs and puts his hands on Nino’s knees, making him stay.

“It’s not like that. I didn’t have fantasies about you,” Aiba goes on, “just runaway thoughts, you know? Like, ‘hmm, I wonder how it feels to kiss Nino’ or ‘would Nino and I ever get together?’ Stuff like that.”

Nino nods. He gets it. “You’ve been curious about how we could be together, but you don’t like me that way to actually get together with me.”

“Yes.” Aiba looks impressed. “You _are_ my soulmate.”

Nino preens.

Aiba continues: “I think thinking about these maybes made me realise I liked guys—in a weird, roundabout way, since I knew you liked them too, and it opened my eyes to the possibility of me being the same.”

“Okay—if you’ve had not-so-innocent thoughts about Oh-chan, and even about me,” Nino takes a deep breath, “have you ever thought about Sho-chan that way?”

For a long time Nino has suspected the love triangle wasn’t simply ‘Sho and Aiba like the same guy’; he has a theory that Sho and Aiba have more complicated feelings for each other, all of them unspoken. He’s not played witness to many friendships being broken up by romance, but there has to be more reasons as to why it’s hurt them so much and rendered them apart like this.

“Sho-chan is…” Aiba grasps air, as if the words can be located in the steam. “He’s overwhelming. He overwhelms me.” Aiba lips pinch shut as he waves a hand. “Can we not talk about him?”

“Right. Sorry.”

Aiba shakes his head to tell Nino it’s okay, and they lapse into silence.

_Overwhelming._ Nino hasn’t heard that particular adjective being applied to Sho before. In a way that only people who’ve known Sho as long as they have, Nino can see how ‘overwhelming’ is actually apt, because Sho can be quite the crusader about the things he really believes in.

 _It’s progress,_ Nino thinks, because it’s terribly brave of Aiba to admit his feelings for Sho, in any form, to someone else. Aiba is ridiculously kind. He doesn’t bear grudges. He doesn't talk bad about people. He rarely passes judgement, not out loud at least. But he remembers. And with this Sho-Ohno-him thing, he _remembers_.

“If it makes you feel better,” says Nino, mincing forward on his butt and circling his arms around Aiba’s neck so he can get closer, “may I suggest we make out?”

There’s a twinkle in Aiba’s eye, followed by a bit of slipping and the sound of water rushing off the edges of the tub; then Nino finds Aiba’s lips on his, warm and confident and instantly hilarious because it doesn’t feel like any kiss he’s ever had before. There’s a lot of laughing, and they both try to make it as hot as they can, but it just gets funnier.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Nino says when they break apart, a crick in his neck because of the way Aiba had pressed his head against the wall, “but kissing you is very similar to playing with a dog?”

“I know, right?” cries Aiba, wagging his finger in vigorous agreement. “Like when they get all affectionate and start licking you and you want to respond to them with some sort of physical gesture.”

“…God, are we each other’s pets now?”

“It’s like that drama!”

“Man, that is one old drama. What did the lady call the boy-pet again?”

“Momo!” Aiba flings his arms out wide.

“Momo!” Nino shouts back, and falls into Aiba’s hug. “Damn, we’re so lucky our families know we’re weird,” says Nino against Aiba’s skin.

“Well, it’s not like we’re doing anything kinky.”

“Yeah, we’re just casually hugging naked, each other’s dicks pressed up against our thighs. Totally cool.”

There’s another series of snorts and giggles before Aiba speaks. “For the record, kissing is okay, but I’m drawing the line at sex. I don’t want to fuck you the same way I don’t want to fuck my dog.”

Nino puts on a sad face. “It’s like I’m not desirable.”

“I just don’t want things to change.” Aiba’s voice goes soft as he finishes his sentence; Nino reads between the lines.

There’s a reason why his friends aren’t talking to each other but still talk to him: he’s their constant. For years he’s loved them the same, ferociously protective of their feelings and, perhaps more so, his. Some might have called it stubborn loyalty, but Nino thinks it also stems from sheer laziness—it’s too much effort, loving someone the way each of them want to be loved. They’re looking for something epic and exclusive and special, but Nino’s just happy to be in his own cocoon, occasionally coming out to seek some physical affection, no strings attached.

“Nino?” Aiba is suddenly morose; and Nino doesn’t know if it’s the bathwater, or tears that are gathering in the corners of Aiba’s eyes. 

“Yeah?” Nino keeps his voice gentle.

“I’m sorry we broke us up.” Aiba’s voice breaks, and nope, that’s not bathwater.

Nino doesn’t know how to fix this.

***

In _Adventum_ , you don’t have to start a game mode if you own real estate—you’re allowed to simply visit, in a semi-offline mode, and revel in your personal playground with all the fake humans that make up your property. Players can even invite real-life friends who have accounts to join the party, though certain areas will remain out-of-bounds to them—in Nino’s manor, for example, the harem quarters are privy only to him, the master of the house.

Today Nino strides into the living room and beckons to Kazapon, who scurries to him from his perch in the corner, head bowed low.

“We having a guest today,” informs Nino. “Where should I host him?”

“The drawing room, the banquet hall and the cabinet room are available, along with your bedchambers.”

 _Oh, Adventum,_ Nino thinks, _you and your naughty subtleties._

“Educate me—what’s a cabinet room?” asks Nino, unsure of the terminology used in the house. He’s never owned a house like this before, but it’s not like he’s accomplished nothing in the game: he’s spent over a year (and a lot of credits) designing an intergalactic universe, deciding things like its climate, terrain and how the non-humanoid inhabitants look. It’s fun, playing god to a space nation.

“A cabinet room is a small studio you assign to a specific purpose, like meetings about the enterprise, or simply to compose a novel,” says Kazama fluently, not missing a beat.

“Which room has comfier chairs?” quizzes Nino.

“The drawing room.”

“Dude, you’re a lot faster than Siri, you know that?”

Kazapon looks at Nino blankly. “I beg your pardon?”

Nino grins. Kazapon’s coding can’t handle the anatopism. He’s got limits after all. “That’ll do,” Nino says instead. “Get the room ready.”

“Yes, Master.”

Five minutes later Nino is seated in a plush armchair, cushion snug in place against his back. Ohno should be here any minute. If there’s anything Nino trusts Ohno to be, it’s punctual. He may seem detached from most things, but Nino knows he’s actually very responsible and grownup.

There’s a knock on the door, and Kazapon shows Ohno in.

Nino convinced Ohno to bring his Spectresight to Kagoshima for this very reason—Nino can actually see Ohno in 3D and give him a hug, and he’d feel it as if they were in the real world.

“Now you get what I mean,” Nino grins as he drapes an arm around Ohno’s shoulders, “when I said this is better than Skype.”

Ohno offers Nino a smile that’s too tight to be genuine.

“Hey. Something wrong?” Nino asks, drawing back.

“Nothing,” Ohno quickly says, except he turns his head around, gaze sweeping over the walls and furniture, discomfort etched upon his face.

Nino studies Ohno for a moment before mimicking him, looking around the room. He doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

They sit at a table, and a maid approaches carrying a tray. It doesn’t strike Nino as strange until the maid sets down the drink for Ohno and says:

“Your iced sencha, Master Ohno.”

Ohno freezes, and Nino blinks. The staff knows Ohno’s name and preferences. He’s been here before.

“Oh, crap,” says Nino softly, finally getting why Ohno had been discomfited upon entering. “You and Aiba-chan were here together.”

There is a long silence, and in the soft lighting of the room Nino can see the embarrassment on Ohno’s face, the flush of shame that stains the tips of his ears.

“He sold you the house?” Ohno asks quietly.

“Sort of. I needed a quick fix for an investment evaluation, and I asked if Aiba-chan had anything good and cheap. He said I could have the manor for free if I aced at kendama, and I did. One in each hand, on the first try.” Nino mimes swinging _kendama_ balls into their cups before letting his hands fall limply into his lap. “I really didn’t know this would be weird for you.”

“No, I should’ve checked the address.” Ohno manages a small smile. “These manors… they all look the same on the outside; I couldn’t tell from the picture on the invite.”

“Yeah, I know.” Nino rubs his face. “Damn, all I wanted was to catch up with you.”

Ohno leans across the table and peers at Nino. “Sorry, Nino. It shouldn’t be this awkward.”

It’s a wake-up call for Nino, in a way. For all he’s thought he’s known about what happened between his friends, he realises there’s still a lot that’s remained private. No wonder Aiba didn’t want the manor anymore. This had to have been one of the places where they’d staged their trysts; it was probably part of Aiba’s process to get over Ohno.

Nino feels his anger building, and wonders if it’s okay to be this upset. He’s not just angry at Aiba for not telling him about the house; he’s also angry that both Aiba and Ohno had been so reckless with the sex just because it hadn’t been real, not in the conventional sense. Most of all, he’s furious that it was he who introduced Aiba and Ohno to this outlet for all the make-believe that has carried into the real world with really disastrous results, and Nino hates it, hates all of it.

“Come on,” says Nino, sighing heavily, “let’s go to Hymn.”

Ohno blinks. “Your space country?”

“It’s the only place I know for sure you and Aiba-chan didn’t go,” says Nino darkly.

“But no one’s been there yet.” Ohno pauses. “You’d have to officially open its doors for me to visit.”

Nino shrugs. “It’s almost complete, and all the legal stuff with Rasmussem has been verified; I just need to click a button.” Nino looks up. “ _Menu_ ,” he says to the ceiling, and a hologram wall of options materialises by their side.

“Nino, this is a pretty big deal.” Ohno clutches at his elbow. “It’s like listing your company on the stock exchange, isn’t it?”

“I’m impressed.” Nino can’t hold back his grin, his exasperation diminishing. “You actually know how in-game enterprising works.”

“You’ve talked about it.”

“And you were actually listening.”

“Yeah, so,” says Ohno, squeezing Nino’s elbow again, “it’s fine, really. I’m okay. I don’t want to be the reason you’re opening your space thing today. Let’s just stay here.”

Nino hesitates.

Games aren’t _just games_ to Nino; they’re more like experiences to be lived and endured and celebrated. Nino is one of Rasmussem Corporation’s Partner Players, and he’s signed a contract with Rasmussem to help create the worlds that others play in, a kind of _The Sims_ meets _Minecraft_ meets the movie _Inception_. After evaluation from the people at Rasmussem, creators like Nino can put their worlds online for others to quest in, with Rasmussem providing the storylines. Nino has devoted his entire time playing _Adventum_ to this cause: every adventure mode in another world field research, every credit spent an investment to making Hymn a preferred choice for galactic immersion. It’s also why he didn’t notice his friends were drifting apart; he was too busy building an empire, too interested in his own virtual reality dream.

Nino has to admit he’s been a pretty lousy friend himself.

“I can’t just cash in on your goodwill like that,” says Nino, grabbing Ohno’s elbow. “Come on—we’re going to Hymn.”

***

It’s done without fanfare—Nino commands the system to list Hymn as officially open to the denizens of _Adventum_ , and it gets hits almost immediately. People like a good space adventure, and it’s hard to resist when Nino has made it look like the inside of a pinball machine running on sugar.

Now that the country has, in game-speak, ‘gone live’, Nino doesn’t have much control over it anymore. He’s handed most of its future development over to Rasmussem. However, as a Partner Player, Nino is entitled to own one district and all the property that is within its borders, and a large portion of the profits made from in-game purchases in that district will go straight into Nino’s bank account—translating into real-world money. Nino has jurisdiction over this part of Hymn and is allowed to upgrade it as he deems fit, at his own cost. He could also sell it, or let it rot and go bankrupt before Rasmussem buys the land back from him.

“So I’m technically the guest of the overlord?” says Ohno, as Nino takes him into his suite, situated on the top floor of a tower he’s hoping to turn into a hotel. The room isn’t as colourful as the streets of Hymn; the walls are a clean ivory, the floor cherrywood. It feels like earth in here, which is what Nino was going for in the first place.

“I don’t think anyone’s buying or winning property in Hymn yet, so there aren’t any other lords to lord over.” Nino gestures for Ohno to sit in a chair that looks like a pumpkin with a quarter cut out, before collapsing into a beanbag shaped like a toadstool.

“Congratulations on the grand opening.” Ohno grins, and Nino is glad to see he looks more relaxed.

“Thanks. Want a drink?” Nino moves into the kitchen and gets behind a well-stocked bar.

Soon, they’re laughing over Nino’s lousy attempt at a piña colada, something Ohno ordered just because he knew Nino didn’t know what it was.

“It’s not even the right colour,” Ohno scolds lovingly. “This is _pink_ , Nino.”

Nino huffed. “How should I know? You know I only drink beer.”

“If Aiba-chan were here, he’d be able to make it perfectly,” chuckles Ohno, lowering his head to admire the concoction, still sitting in the shaker.

Nino can hear the pause, feel the air go still. Ohno meets his eyes.

“That just slipped out, didn’t it?” asks Ohno with a sigh.

Nino throws up his hands. “What must I do around here to make it fucking okay for you guys to say each other’s names?”

“I don’t know. It’s still really awkward for me. I didn’t like what I did.”

Nino fumes. “Then why did you do it? Do you even like Aiba-kun?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, do you like Sho-chan?”

Ohno gets up from his seat, walking to the window to stare out at the galaxy. “It’s more complicated than who I like, Nino.”

“I know it’s complicated, it’s the one of the two things you guys have been saying to me for weeks,” snaps Nino. Ohno turns around, stung, but Nino finds it hard to regret what he’s said. “The other thing being ‘sorry’,” finishes Nino, spitting the word out.

The intensity in Ohno’s gaze is a stranger to his face. “And you’ve never once accepted it.”

Nino frowns. “Accepted what?”

“My apology. And I’m guessing theirs as well.”

“That’s because it doesn’t make sense,” Nino says through gritted teeth. “I don’t need an apology.”

“You do, because we screwed up. We messed up with each other. And we let you down, because we know how much you love us. We’re trying to own up to that. Don’t you get it?”

“How noble of you.” Nino scoffs. “Sincerely, The Afterthought.”

Ohno looks like he’s about to say something, but ends up being at a loss for words. He can’t deny that Nino hadn’t been included in their discussions to take breaks from each other. Not that Nino had been directly involved to warrant an inclusion, but still.

“It’s stupid.” Nino grabs the shaker and pours its contents down the sink as vehemently as he can. “I’m not accepting your apologies. It feels so final, like I’m washing my hands off of this and letting a twenty-year-long friendship go down the drain.”

“Nino,” says Ohno tiredly, “don’t.”

“Why do you guys even bother talking to me? Why still be friends with me? Am I your refuge? Your spy? Your messenger?”

Ohno stares at Nino. “What’s gotten into you?”

Nino sulks.

Several moments pass in silence before Ohno says: “We’re not doing it for ourselves, Nino.”

“Are you doing it for me, then?” comes Nino’s swift retort.

“Who else?” Ohno looks completely taken aback. “Nino, since we were kids you’ve been the clingiest. You get lonely the moment we’re out of your sight. And you’re not afraid to express your feelings—are you even aware of how much you like to touch us?”

“That doesn’t make me _need_ you.”

“So why are we having this conversation?” Ohno’s tone is gentle now. “ _You’re_ the one who’s unhappy with how things are now.”

“What’s wrong with wanting us all back together?”

Ohno shakes his head sadly. “You used to get all the love, and now that it’s split three ways it isn’t enough for you.” Ohno pauses. “That’s what we’re sorry for, Nino. Please understand.”

Nino’s mouth falls open. The audacity.

“I’m going back,” mutters Nino, rolling his eyes skyward.

“Nino—”

“ _Eject_ ,” says Nino, and the next moment he’s back in his room, on his bed, tearing his helmet off and mussing up his hair, wondering how the hell things had gone south with Ohno just because of a failed piña colada.

***

Nino has pronounced the establishment _sus4_ , going with the musical naming conventions he’s set out for Hymn. It’s a bar with an infinity pool, filled with a liquid that takes on the colour of the celestial sphere instead of merely reflecting it. Nino looks on at the swimmers and realises how eerie a picture it is with them camouflaged from the shoulders down.

“Architect sure loves his kinks,” a voice says. “Those floating heads are way too tech-noir for a regular clientele.”

Nino twists himself on the bar stool, about to defend his creative integrity, when the guy angles his head towards the bartender and the lights above the counter allow Nino a better look at his face.

It’s Harem Guy.

“Vermouth Rosso, on the rocks,” Harem Guy tells the scaly-skinned bartender, who flares his gills and bows before proceeding to pour his drink. (Nino has made the bartender silent; he prefers his staff better listeners than talkers.)

“Well, you’re here,” says Nino airily as he returns to his drink.

The man chuckles. “That’s because I’m not regular clientele.” He thanks the bartender as he receives his glass.

Nino's curiosity is so piqued it’s making him itch, but he sure as hell isn’t going to give Harem Guy the satisfaction of witnessing it. He concentrates on his piña colada, and fingering the coaster beneath it.

“Cheers?”

Nino looks at the man’s outstretched glass, then travels his line of vision to his face. He’s got on an alluring, lop-sided smile, and is as attractive as the night Nino first saw him—well, a version of him—at the manor.

Nino caves.

“Cheers,” he says affably, clinking their glasses together. “And what do you mean, you’re not regular clientele?”

Harem Guy’s smile widens into a grin. Still standing, he downs his drink and asks for another.

“I enjoy the occasional kink,” Harem Guy smirks, sliding into the empty barstool beside Nino, “and I really enjoy tech-noir.”

Nino hums, amused by the man’s flirtatious candour. “Don’t feel pressured to answer this truthfully, but did you approach me because I’m one of the few Japanese-looking people in here and you were seeking solidarity?” Nino lets out a low laugh as the man copies his knowing smile. They’ve both done it before.

“That, but it was more of me being curious about why you were glaring at your piña colada,” the man takes his refill of Vermouth and bumps it against the glass in Nino’s hand, “and because I’ve definitely met one of your Beloveds.”

Nino’s eyebrows rise. “Was he your ‘occasional kink’? Is this my cue to hit you to redeem the modesty you took from someone with _my_ likeness?”

The man laughs—a wide-mouthed, high-pitched laugh that surprises Nino with its bold rambunctiousness. “He was hilarious, but you win, hands down. I met him last week in Yore Country. He was the—”

“—mazekeeper in Chancerstead,” finishes Nino, grinning.

The man immediately assumes a sour look, his intent betrayed only by the way his lips are twitching. “You kept leading me into dead ends.”

“You know it wasn’t me.” Nino looks away, hiding his smile in a long sip of his now-diluted cocktail.

“Come on. Surrendered Hereafters wouldn’t have mission parameters as specific as his. You made him do that on purpose.” Harem Guy pauses. “You are quite the dick! Should I even be talking to you?”

It’s Nino’s turn to laugh now. “I appreciate your honesty,” he says, hearing his pulse, its drumming pleasantly intensifying as he slides a crooked arm across the counter, moving closer to the man. “I guess it’s time to admit that I have a Beloved of yours in one of my harems.”

The man’s jaw drops. “And you had the cheek to talk about modesty!”

“I didn’t ask for the harem, it came with the house!” Nino tries to quell his mirth, but his newfound embarrassment doesn’t allow him to. 

“Damn, and I just revealed to you I enjoy the occasional kink!”

There’s a look in Harem Guy’s eyes, all incandescent delight and conspicuous attraction. Nino knows he’s enjoying this. What a lovely, horrible person.

“I just happened to notice him,” Nino goes on, “we didn’t do anything.”

There’s a pause before Harem Guy says, with a note of mischief in his voice:

“Will you?”

Nino covers his face with his hands, making the man laugh. “No,” says Nino, peeking through the gaps in his fingers. “It was weird even before I met you.”

Laughing, the man leans back in his seat, keeping his eyes on Nino. “You got a name?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” says Nino.

The man turns his attention to his glass of Vermouth, considering. Nino keeps his gaze on him; in the world of _Adventum_ , exchanging personal information is always sensitive—they haven’t been the first new acquaintances to clam up despite having been so frank during banter.

It takes a while before the man meets Nino’s eyes once again. Nino indulges in the moment, feeling a nostalgic heat rise in his chest; he’s not been looked at like this for a long time.

“Jun,” he says with a dip of his head, “and it’s my real name. Nice to meet you.”

Nino picks up on the omission of the family name; telling someone just part of your name, or giving them a fake name, is a common tactic to stay cautious; but Jun specifying that it’s his actual name, coupled with the shyness of his bow, sends a warmth buzzing through Nino’s veins—he’s pretty sure it isn’t the alcohol. Sincerity and the exhibition of trust are things that are hard to come by when meeting strangers in _Adventum_ , and the fact that Jun has been so ready to offer them up is kind of a big deal to Nino.

“I’m Nino.” Nino’s mouth widens into a grin as he sees Jun’s expression transition into open-mouthed surprise, and he clinks their glasses together again. “Short for Ninomiya.”

“…You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. People actually call me that. They sometimes also call me ‘funny bastard’, but I prefer Nino.”

The joke flies over Jun’s head. “You gave your clone your name?”

Nino understands Jun’s surprise; it’s unconventional to name a Beloved after yourself, mainly because you don’t really know what happens to them in the end and most people want to detach themselves from that. Not Nino, though.

“I needed to leave a legacy behind, you must understand. I got really far in the quest before I was gored by that bull. Tragic, but typical Yore Country storyline so who am I to complain?”

“So…” Jun blinks at Nino, still processing, “Nino?”

“There you go. It’s really not that hard to pronounce.” Nino laughs, pointing at Jun’s face. “Why do you look so unsettled?”

“It’s just… I spent a couple of days with Nino, and it’s - it’s a little weird that you guys share the same name.”

“Dude, of all the weird things you’ve learnt about me tonight, you’re weirded out about my Beloved sharing my _name_? What’s wrong with you?”

Jun gives another laugh, a different one this time: it’s more subdued, shorter, a little more nasal. Nino decides he doesn’t mind it.

“It makes him you, and that’s just hard to wrap my head around,” says Jun. “I really liked him.”

“Ah,” says Nino, giving a pronounced nod. “I have a really charming personality, I get it.”

“That wasn’t me confessing to you. Please.”

“Don’t fight what’s meant to be, Jun-kun.”

“Damn, you’re really him.” Jun shakes his head. “That’s exactly what he’d say.”

“Nino’s such a dick.” Nino gives Jun a sympathetic pat before waving to the bartender to order a beer.

“You haven’t told me why your piña colada was being so offensive,” says Jun, pointing to the empty glass the bartender was taking away.

Nino studies Jun for a moment. “Oh, what the hell. You’re offering to listen.”

Jun’s eyebrows furrow. Nino starts talking.

“So me and my three best friends, we all grew up on the same street, and we all turned out to be different shades of gay, and the short version of this is: they’re all not talking to each other. Two of them had to go be stupid and have lots of semi-meaningful sex in Adventum even though one of the two had been in love with the one who wasn’t having sex in Adventum for the absolute longest time, and the one who wasn’t having sex with him had finally returned his feelings but because he was having sex with the one who was having sex with him in Adventum, he wasn’t sure that he liked the one who wasn’t having sex with him in Adventum anymore.”

Jun spends a second to take all of this in. “So what has this got to do with the piña colada?”

“The one who was having sex with the one who wasn’t sure—”

“Give them names, Nino.”

“Oh, fine. A-kun, the one O-kun was having sex with in-game, is really good at making cocktails. O-kun, who’s supposed to have been in love with S-kun since college or something, met me a couple days back and it got all awkward when I tried making O-kun a piña colada, which I’ve never had prior to today, and he mentioned how A-kun could make it better, and then he got weird about it.”

“So it got weird because you like O-kun?”

“No! Well, I used to, but no. It was weird because O-kun was like, ‘Oops I talked about A-kun.’”

“So O-kun likes A-kun?”

“I’m not too sure. The sex might have made him confuse lust with love—it might have confused both of them, in fact—but now that things have cooled down and they’re not talking to each other anymore, I don’t know how they feel. It’s a touchy subject.”

“How about the other guy?”

“S-kun? He’s sort of like the victim. I don’t know the details, but apparently a long time ago—sometime in college—O-kun told S-kun he liked him, S-kun said he’d think about it because he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and when S-kun was finally ready to accept him, O-kun happened to be getting it on with A-kun in Adventum. A-kun didn’t know anything about him and S-kun, and neither did I, so it wasn’t like we could do anything. They can be really good with hiding their feelings, O-kun and S-kun.”

“So O-kun screwed up.”

“Yeah, but to be fair S-kun made him wait for years. I just did the math: they’re twenty-six, so ‘during college’ would be anytime from eighteen to twenty-three. _Fuck_ ,” breathes Nino, “that’s long.”

“Fuck, indeed.”

“To further complicate things, I think S-kun might be, like, carrying a torch for A-kun or something. Can’t be sure, but there are signs.”

Jun groans, slumping sideways. “I need a diagram for this.”

“Okay,” Nino grabs Jun’s glass, his own, and a coaster, “when O-kun was away for college,” Nino slides the coaster away before pointing at each of the glasses, “A-kun and S-kun got really close. Well, the three of us got really close because we missed O-kun so much, but I seriously suspect A-kun and S-kun had a thing for each other. They didn’t do anything about it, though. I think they were afraid to upset the balance. Then S-kun got a job that required him to spend half the year outside Tokyo and nobody said anything anymore.”

“Hm.” Jun looks up from the relationship model Nino has thrown together. “And you are the unloved one because…?”

“I’m not unloved; I’m the most loved.” Nino wrinkles his nose, shooting Jun a disparaging look. “Platonically, at least. According to O-kun I’m making things even more awkward because I can’t accept that we aren’t all friends anymore. But how can I?”

Jun’s gaze softens and he reaches out to place his hand Nino’s wrist. “You know, sometimes it’s for the best that people stop being friends. Especially if it causes them so much pain.”

Nino juts his lips out, his manner stubborn. “Not these people. And it isn’t just about them, there’s me too. It’s my business too. I’ve known these guys before I even went to kindergarten, Jun-kun. They’re my people. I _know_ them, and I know they love each other. All this that’s happening? It’s just not right, and I feel like I have to do something about it because I’m the only one who can.”

Nino keeps his eyes trained on his glass. He hadn’t expected to find a confidant in a stranger tonight, especially not one who shares the face of a person in what is, technically, his harem. It’s quite unsettling thinking about it like that.

“Who loves you the most?” asks Jun suddenly, shaking Nino out of his thoughts. “O, A or S?”

“Well, J,” Nino pauses to think before shaking his head, “they all love me the same.”

“But not the same _way_ , I bet. They must all love you differently,” Jun goes on earnestly, “so if you can figure out how to manipulate that, maybe you’ll be able to crack their obstinacy.”

“Did you just recommend that I _manipulate_ my friends?”

“And somehow you manage to say that in a tone that suggests you don’t have a scheming little shit version of you in Yore Country helping Rasmussem waste people’s paid game time.”

Nino cracks a laugh, and it obviously eggs Jun on.

“What have you been doing so far, Nino? What’s the strategy to get your party back in the quest?”

“Oh god,” Nino mutters, “‘strategy’ and ‘party’ and ‘quest’ in the same sentence. You’re serious.”

“Dead serious. Come on—have you really been putting in effort to make things better?”

“I’ve done tons! I’ve been the bystander to all the stupid decisions they’ve made, the listener to their pained silences, and tonight I’ve even played narrator to their sorry soap opera! It’s helping, by the way, don’t misunderstand,” Nino pats Jun’s arm, “but I don’t really know what I can do anymore except continue to hold their hands and suggest we go for a drink from time to time.”

“Have they agreed to go?”

“Do I look like I’m with my friends tonight?”

Jun doesn’t lose heart. “You’ve got relevant intel. Now you just need to persuade them to tolerate each other, first and foremost.”

“How?” says Nino crossly.

Jun frowns in thought. “Okay—who dotes on you the most?”

“‘Dotes’?” Nino is appalled. “I’m not a child, Jun-kun.”

“You are fucking _cute_ , Nino. Don’t tell me they don’t coddle you.” Jun says this without batting an eyelid, and his matter-of-factness makes Nino blush.

Nino clears his throat. “I don’t like the way you compliment me.”

“Answer me, Nino.”

“Oh, all right. It’s S. He’s the most big-brotherly.”

“He’s your weakest link, then. He’s the one you have to—” Jun stops mid-sentence, eyes flicking to the ceiling.

“Someone calling you from outside?” guesses Nino.

“Work,” answers Jun, and disappointment rushes through Nino as he realises Jun can’t stay.

“It can wait a second,” says Jun. “Listen, S-kun’s the one you have to break. Get some alcohol into him to loosen him up, talk to him, convince him you guys have to get back together because that’s how things should be. Friendship is beautiful and all that. Say it like you mean it, which you do, and I know this because Nino doesn’t usually take half the shit he says seriously, but this is different.”

Nino’s heart swells, and he catches Jun’s arm as Jun gets to his feet.

“I know technically I have a version of you in custody, but…” Nino lets the request hang in the air, waiting for Jun to catch on.

Jun gives Nino a ridiculously brilliant smile. “You know where I hang out.”

Before Nino can say anything else, Jun ejects himself and disappears, leaving Nino alone at the bar, grasping air. He blinks a few times, then looks at the bartender, who’s looking at him in anticipatory interest, gills dilating.

“I love this game,” breathes Nino.


	3. Edification

“So my dad says you have a spacebar, and my question is: what happened to the other keys?” asks Sho with a straight face, making Nino groan.

“Sho-chan, one Sakurai with the lame jokes is enough.”

“It’s a bar in space!” Sho chortles. “That’s a pun waiting to be made.”

“Sho-chan.” Nino points to the three-day-old Spectresight lying atop the living room couch. “You could always log on, go visit Hymn. Spend some of your dad’s credits in my district.”

“He hasn’t gone on any quests yet; he’s not rolling in credits like you are,” scoffs Sho.

“Didn’t he just win big at the casino on Hymn? ”

“He did?” Sho looks scandalised and cranes his head to face the room behind Nino. “Tou-san!”

“Was I not supposed to say that?” Nino feigns innocence as Sho’s father pokes his head out past the doorjamb of the study.

“What’s up, boys?”

“Nino says you won money in the game.” Sho gestures to the console on the couch.

“Aw, Kazu-kun!” Sho’s father throws up his hands, scowling. “You said you wouldn’t tell them!” He turns to Sho. “Don’t tell Kaa-san. I’ll help you clean your room. Please?”

Nino laughs, slapping his hands together. He doesn’t remember a day Sho’s dad hasn’t been cowed by his wife. She’s currently holidaying in Taiwan with Sho’s sister, and Sho’s dad has taken the idea of playing while the cat’s away to new heights—for the past three days he’s spent all his free time in the worlds of _Adventum_ , much to Sho’s disdain.

Sho rolls his eyes. “I won’t tell her. And Tou-san, I’m not twelve. You can’t bribe me with offers to _clean my room_. Also, Nino,” Sho turns to Nino, frowning, “outing my dad was really uncool.”

“Just his luck to run into me in-game.” Nino grins at Sho’s dad. “Now you know your secrets won’t be kept if you play in the Rasmussem districts!”

“The games in your district are so hard,” grumbles the older Sakurai. “It’s a fun world, though. You should be proud. Sho, did you know Kazu-kun’s world is—what’s the word—it’s on the popular list…?”

“It’s trending?” Sho looks impressed as his father snaps his fingers, affirming the term.

“Very much so,” says Nino. “It’s number eight on ‘Most Popular Destinations’ today. Thanks to people like you,” he turns to Sho’s dad again, “and all your expenditure.”

Sho’s father gives a dismissive wave, muttering something about snitches, and retreats into his study, leaving Nino and Sho alone.

“So, Nino—what do you want from me?” Sho eyes Nino, hands on his hips.

Nino puts on his most angelic smile. “It’s Saturday night, I thought we could go for a drink. We haven’t hung out in forever; all I’ve done the past few months is to cut your hair. Give me some love tonight?”

“…I’m extremely suspicious of your intent.”

“It’s just a drink, Sakurai. Come on.”

They make it out of Sho’s house with Sho showing impressive restraint—he only whines once about how Nino never asks him out without an ulterior motive—and head down the street to _Kuroki’s_ , the okonomiyaki place they used to haunt back when they were a group of four.

It’s slightly past 9 PM, but given that their neighbourhood is on the elderly side, there aren’t a lot of people in the restaurant; they get shown to one of the private rooms by Hana-chan, the daughter of the couple who own the place. She looks right into their eyes when she takes their order and graces them with the loveliest smile when she brings their beers; Nino reckons the only thing stopping him from asking her out is the fact that she’s still in high school.

They make an opening toast and sigh in unison after their first gulps; cold beer is always such a treat in the summer. Sho launches into a million questions about Hymn and how much Nino can profit despite Rasmussem owning most of the world; Nino explains how it's only temporary, how the business will transform when other investors appear, and secretly frets as Sho prudently keeps to iced water after his third beer.

The truth is, Nino has no idea how to steer the conversation towards having Sho accept his proposal of becoming friends with Ohno and Aiba again. For Nino, conversations usually happen organically, and despite his predilection for playing master of the game, he isn’t a fan of it in real life. Being too shrewd when interacting with actual humans just tires him out, and Nino has found out the hard way that people distance themselves when they pick up on it. He prays that Sho would somehow open up to him enough for him to at least mention Ohno or Aiba in a favourable light.

Nino gets distracted from his mission, however, when Sho asks which establishment is making the most money in Nino’s district, and when Nino says it’s _sus4_ (because of the alcohol), Sho grins and says:

“You have to take me there.”

“You… want to go into the game?” says Nino, measuring each word. Sho doesn’t like _Adventum_ ; he’s been very plain about it, though less so, Nino realises, after his father joined the club. Maybe it was because he saw how the game gave his father some release from the day-to-day stresses of his job and family responsibilities. 

“I want to show you some support. Besides, I’m curious about your space bar.”

“You can't actually go in with your dad's account; you know that, right?"

"Yes."

"You’d have to get your image mapped, sign an agreement to authorise an intensive personality analysis, lock in your credit card details—are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t like all those things. You’re a stupidly private person.”

Sho chortles. “I’m not going to play the game, Nino. I’m going in to see your business venture. And it’s not like Adventum is completely new to me; I know how it works. You’ve basically functioned like its Wikipedia page ever since you started to play, and I’ve watched your videos so I know what the inside of it is like. I’ll be fine. Let’s set a date.” Sho fishes his phone out of his pocket and navigates to his calendar app.

Nino’s lips part in wonder; Sho, avid critic of _Adventum_ and all its addictive pitfalls, is actually seeing Hymn as something real, acknowledging the hard work Nino has put into its development. This act of validation comes so freely that it moves Nino to get out of his seat, slide into place beside Sho, and sling his arms across Sho’s gloriously ski-instructor-fit upper body.

“Nino,” Sho chuckles as he tries to worm out of Nino’s grasp, “you know we’ve talked about seduction being off-limits.”

“Sho-chan, come on. Why would you even use that word? So incestuous,” murmurs Nino against the skin that he’s bared by nuzzling under the collar of Sho’s T-shirt.

“You’re practically kissing my neck, Nino. Who’s being the incestuous one?” Sho claps a hand across Nino’s forehead to hold him at a distance. “I know you’re feeling thankful, but you really need to show it with less affection.”

“It’s not like we haven’t kissed before." Nino catches Sho's wrist and hums against the underside of his forearm.

“Not seriously. Never seriously,” warns Sho, pulling his hand out of Nino's, “not after all that’s happened.”

Nino blinks. This is his opening. “So you’re saying, none of us are ever going to be romantically involved with you.”

“Not if I can help it.” Sho’s words are forged from a brutal honesty; Nino knows it’s not because of the three beers, and he’s grateful for it.

“So there’s still an ‘us’?”

A frown clouds Sho’s face. He doesn’t get it.

“You’re thinking about Aiba-kun and Oh-chan. You’re still including them,” Nino fights to keep his voice neutral, not excited or accusatory, “even though you’re trying not to. Is it working?”

Sho doesn’t meet Nino’s eyes.

“You know,” continues Nino, “I may joke about jumping your bones and even kiss you guys with tongue every now and then, but you're more like my brothers than anything else.” Nino puts his head back on Sho’s shoulder. “I’ve watched the three of you, _looked up_ to the three of you, my whole life. Especially you, in fact.”  
   
“Nino, I know what you’re getting at, but…” Sho sighs. “It’s too late, you know that.”  
   
“Too late for what?” Nino narrows his eyes. “To tell Aiba-kun you love him?”

Sho blinks rapidly, drawing a quick breath. “What?”

Nino shrugs. “I would take a bullet for all of you, but for Aiba-kun I’d take two. No offence. I pick up on things involving him.” Nino locks gazes with Sho once again. “I knew it wasn’t just about Oh-chan saying he wasn’t sure about you. I knew it wasn’t that simple.”  
   
Sho leans back into his seat, not saying a word.

“You made Oh-chan wait for your reply for years,” Nino finally says what’s been on his mind, “and I’m guessing it’s because you were confused about how you felt about Aiba-kun?”

Sighing, Sho gives a little nod. “I guess at some point, I wanted them both. It made me quite disgusted with myself.”

“It isn’t unnatural,” says Nino. “There are reasons why harems exist.”

“Yeah, but it’s Satoshi-kun and Aiba-chan.” Sho gives Nino a pointed look. “You’ve liked Satoshi-kun before, surely you know how threatening it is.”

“How threatening what is?”

“To pursue a relationship with someone who’s a friend. You’d have to think about the possibility of your friendship ending when your romance ends.”

Nino stares at Sho. “Sho-chan, I was fourteen when I had that crush on Oh-chan. All I wanted to do was bang him, and fantasise about banging him. My hormones and I couldn’t care less about how it would hurt our relationship.”

Sho laughs, and he sounds like he’s trying hard not to. “Okay, but you’re ten years older now. You get what I’m saying, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. So I guess the question now is—what made you decide to say yes to Oh-chan eventually? Why didn’t you just say no, and go for Aiba-kun?”

“I guess the best answer I can give you is I thought he was the one for me. You don’t know how it’s like to have Ohno Satoshi tell you year after year, point blank and with utmost conviction, that he wants to be with you. And this year I thought it was time to just… _grow up_ , and not worry about whether there’s someone better out there, or if Aiba-chan was that someone.”

It’s the first time Nino is hearing about how Ohno tried so hard for Sho. He thinks about who Ohno is, and realises he can’t put it past him. Ohno can be really focused on a goal—determined, relentless. What Nino is hearing about Sho, on the other hand…

“So you said yes out of pity?” asks Nino.

“No, I was won over by his sincerity,” argues Sho. “It’s different.”

Nino holds up his hands; Sho glaring and lowering his voice like that is always a signal to back off. “Fine. But seriously, Sho-chan—how could you sit on it for so long? You made him wait _years_. How is that even decent?”

“It wasn’t,” says Sho. “I was hoping he’d give up.”

“Sho-chan,” Nino moans, “that’s so stupid.”

“Nino, you must understand that there are certain parts of me that are extremely selfish. I didn’t want to get hurt, and I was so afraid of starting something that'd ruin everything. Satoshi-kun understood that; that’s why he waited.”

Nino dumps his face into his hands. He’s seeing things more clearly now: when Sho told Ohno he wanted them to be together, he wasn’t actually returning Ohno’s feelings—he was just hoping that someday he would. He was giving up loving Aiba to commit to loving Ohno, only to be rewarded with a plot twist: Ohno was thrown off-course because Aiba had gotten into his pants, and lust and love were sometimes very similar things.

Sho must have felt dreadful when he found out.

“I know there’re still parts of what happened that you guys haven’t told me, and that’s fine, it’s your business,” Nino says, “but I just can’t believe that we can’t all be friends. This is going to sound disgusting, but I truly believe we belong together.”

A corner of Sho’s mouth lifts; it makes him looks sad, but it’s encouraging to Nino all the same.

“Nino. It’s going to be a herculean task to make things the way they were before. You know that.”

“I’m not asking for things to be the way they were before. I just want you guys to be friends, because I know you want to be. You guys are being _hostile_ to each other. How is that okay?”  
   
Sho sighs and reaches out to hold Nino’s hand. “You know, this might just be why we’ve never loved you that way.”  
   
“Did you just insult me?”  
   
“No.” Sho laughs. “It’s just—you’ve always been the one calibrating us, you know? Whenever the rest of us have our moments. Yeah, sure, Aiba-kun’s your favourite and you’re pretty obvious about that, but you never make Satoshi-kun or me feel neglected. You’re just really good with people. Really - really _fair_ , I guess. Strange word choice since no one’s competing for anything, but it’s true. I think it's why we’re still friends with you.”  
   
Nino gets on his knees to face Sho, placing both his hands on Sho’s shoulders. He knows this is his moment; if he’s going to ask Sho to take a step forward, this is it.  
   
“About that trip to my space bar,” Nino takes a deep breath, “would you hate the idea of me asking the others along?”  
   
“It depends on whether you tell them that I’ll be there,” answers Sho gravely.  
   
“I’m not going to make it a trap,” says Nino firmly. “If it’s going to happen, all of you will know that it’s me trying to get us back together.”  
   
“Well…” Sho worries his lip. “I don’t know if the others are ready, Nino.”  
   
“Does that mean you are?” Nino’s heart pounds in anticipation.  
   
Sho manages another one of his tiny smiles. “If you’ve got my back, then yeah.”  
   
Nino flings himself at Sho. “I might not be able to get both of them to come, but if you’re in with me on this… It means a lot.”  
   
Nino feels Sho pat his back, and he pulls him closer.  
 

***

   
The _juku_ ’s opening hours are from four to ten with few breaks in between, so Nino knows he has to get Aiba either before or after. Nino picks after, figuring out Aiba would be more mellow at the end of the day and hence, less guarded.  
   
He doesn’t expect Aiba to come knocking in the middle of his lunch break.  
   
“Hello!” Nino hears Aiba greeting in his usual cheerful manner, making the chimes clang together merrily as he pushes open the door to the barbershop. Nino is in the backroom with his father, halfway through the lunch his mother made, and he hears Aiba call:  
   
“Nino?”  
   
Nino’s dad is closer to the door, so he steps out into the shop. “Which one?”  
   
Aiba laughs—it’s been a running joke for years, since Nino’s dad is also called ‘Nino’ by most of his peers; the shop owners on the street mostly call Nino ‘bocchan from the barbershop’.  
   
“I know you’re closed for lunch, but I desperately need a haircut. Some potential students and their parents are coming in to watch a demo lesson and I completely forgot.”  
   
“Yeah, can’t give a good first impression when you’re wearing a mop. You want me to do it? I’m almost done with lunch.”  
   
Hearing this, Nino wolfs down the last of his rice and enters the shop. “It’s okay, Tou-chan. I’ll do it,” he says, mouth still chewing.  
   
Nino’s dad pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Nino,” he says jovially, making Nino roll his eyes. His dad likes to appear as the cool, fun one in front of his friends. “Later, Masaki!”  
   
Aiba gives a slight bow as Nino’s dad heads into the backroom to finish his lunch, and presses his palms together in apology as Nino prods him into a chair.  
   
“Sorry. Emergency,” says Aiba, settling into his seat.  
   
“Mm, I heard,” Nino answers, fixing the cape around Aiba’s neck. “So, you just want a trim, or something fancy?”  
   
“Whatever takes under ten minutes.”  
   
“ _Under_ ten minutes?” Nino arches his eyebrows, running his fingers through Aiba’s hair. “I doubt even the guys at QB House can do under ten.”  
   
“Nino, please,” Aiba sighs, “I haven’t prepped for the lesson.”

“Twelve, Aiba-chan. That’s how quick I can do it. I have standards.”

“Look, Nino, we really need the business, and I can’t risk the kids’ parents finding anything unsatisfactory. I need to teach good and look good. Just for today.”  
   
Nino’s adamance gives. “Okay, tell you what—I’ll do what I can to make you _seem_ decent, and tonight you can come back for me to finish. I’ve been cutting your hair long enough to know how you like it, and ten minutes isn’t going to give you that.”  
   
“Thank you. I’ll pay you along with the money I owe you from the other day,” promises Aiba.  
   
An idea comes to Nino as he spritzes Aiba’s hair with the spray bottle. He feels guilty for coming up with it, but it makes a lot of sense.  
   
_A favour for a favour,_ Nino thinks as he gets to work with his scissors. It isn’t like he’s really manipulating Aiba.  
   
But Nino knows it’s not the right time to propose that Aiba meet Sho in return for him giving Aiba a free haircut. Aiba’s stressed out about the demonstration lesson; Nino doesn’t want to add to that.  
   
“Come back tonight,” says Nino, dusting the loose hairs off Aiba’s neck and face when he’s done. “I’ll wait for you here. We have Wi-Fi in the shop now so I’ll probably be playing Adventum, but I’ll keep the door unlocked so you can come right in. Hit my call button if I’m still in-game.”  
   
The look Aiba gives him is so precious that Nino has to look away, still feeling guilty that his intentions haven’t completely stemmed from goodwill. He wonders, for the first time, if his efforts to bring the group together have come from a selfish place, the place in his heart that cares only for his own happiness.  
   
This thought continues to nag at him hours later, when he’s back at the bar in _sus4_ , sipping on a beer after recording a playthrough in which he created more staff for the hotel he built in his district. He hasn’t made enough profit to cover the hotel’s set-up costs yet, but when he does, he should be making enough credits to work towards his next goal: acquiring more districts.  
   
Partner Players can’t buy worlds back from Rasmussem, but they can own up to 51 per cent—the majority—of its area. Nino hopes to achieve this within a year. It’s not impossible, given the traffic to Hymn, and the priorities he enjoys as Hymn’s architect. Other players will also be having their eye on Hymn, however, so Nino knows he has to get his capital ready, provide himself with the leverage to act fast, before too much of it is bought up. Fortunately, worlds have to be online for 90 days before it’s declared safe for other players to invest, which means Nino has a pretty good head start. He’s going to document the process on his YouTube channel, hopefully gain more followers who want to do the same in _Adventum_.  
   
Somebody slides into the space beside Nino, just a little too close for comfort.

Nino breaks into a grin when he sees that it’s Jun, all pomp and glamour in his swanky jacket with the colourful embroidery. He sports multiple rings on his fingers, his nails carefully manicured. Nino wonders if this is really what he wears in real life, or if it’s just something he does in _Adventum_.

Nino casts his eyes downward and points his chin at Jun’s feet. “Your shoes have pom-poms on them.”

“Are we commenting on each other’s fashion choices tonight? Because I’m not finding you very attractive in that mustard-coloured tee.”

Nino finds Jun’s gaze, challenging it, then positions himself in an indolent backwards sprawl. “I take you prefer it off?”

Jun grins, and Nino watches as his eyes trace the outline of his chest, his imagination sparked.

“This isn’t a very intelligent conversation, Nino.” Jun is almost tutting. “Your standards have truly fallen.”

“It’s not that. I have to consider my audience, you see.”

Jun laughs, and Nino takes it as defeat. He spins on his stool, facing the bar once more.

“It’s like you know exactly when I log on.”  
   
“It’s eight P.M. on a Monday night, where else would you be?” Jun teases, lobbing himself into the seat beside Nino’s, twirling a little with the motion. “How are things with the merry band of brothers?”  
   
Nino motions to the bartender to get Jun a drink before answering: “S-kun broke, just like you said. He’s in.”  
   
Jun’s face lights up. “And O and A?”  
   
“Haven’t spoken to O-kun, but I’m hoping A-kun will warm up to the idea.”

“Is he a tough nut to crack?”

Nino doesn’t respond immediately; instead he fidgets in his seat, chafing his coaster on the countertop, the beer glass still on it. “He isn’t, but he seems to be particularly averse to S-kun nowadays. You think they’d meet, living on the same street, but A-kun really goes out of his way to avoid S-kun.”

There is another bout of silence before Jun speaks. “You know, Nino doesn’t fiddle with things like that.” Jun gestures at Nino’s coaster-meddling. “You must be really worried.”  
   
Nino laughs, shaking his head. “How much time did you spend with my doppelgänger, I wonder?”  
   
“Too much,” Jun admits, as he accepts the glass of Vermouth from the bartender. “He’s not really you, of course. You’re a lot less one-dimensional.”

They laugh, and at the back of his mind Nino knows it’s crazy, telling a someone he met only three days ago about his incredibly personal issues, but Jun is such a great listener. He nods and knits his brows in all the right places. Nino trusts him.  
   
“It’s just… A-kun’s my favourite person. We’ve been together forever, and I feel that tonight’s meeting—the one I’ve arranged with him today—is betrayal of some sort.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I did A-kun a favour earlier today, and I’m inclined to use it to persuade him to come meet me and the others.” Nino runs his palms down his face. “I’m awful, I know.”

Jun takes a thoughtful sip of his drink. “Are you feeling weird because of the method, or because you’re afraid of facing up to the fact that you’re doing this to fill some sort of void that your friends left when they decided to, well, break up the band?”  
   
Nino draws back from Jun in surprise. “How dare you be so perceptive.”  
   
Jun tilts his head and smiles. “That, or we’re a little more similar than we thought.”  
   
Nino sighs before crossing his hands on the counter and lying on them, cheek-first. “Am I being selfish?”  
   
“No,” says Jun swiftly, “just human. And humans get lonely.”  
   
Nino turns his eyes up at Jun.

“Are you lonely?” asks Nino after a pause.  
   
Jun shrugs. “Somewhat.”  
   
Nino pulls one of his hands out from under his head and offers it to Jun. “Two lonely people together makes two less-lonely people.”

Jun smiles and clutches Nino’s fingers. “I suppose.”

As their skin makes contact and their gazes lock, Nino can feel the butterflies in his stomach, the telltale signs of infatuation. Being in _Adventum_ is a virtual experience, but it isn’t fiction, and feelings remain completely real. Nino always tries to quash the romantic ones. Romance is where he draws the line; half of his time is spent in the game, and he has this feeling that if he lets himself fall in love within it, he’ll go past the point of no return. He’ll be an actual addict, like those junkie gamers who can’t tell the real world from the programmed one and end up either immersing themselves full-time or embarking on a journey to rehab. It can get very extreme.

“So what’s the plan?” asks Jun, letting go of Nino’s hand, diffusing the moment. “How are you going to stage it?”

Nino shrugs. “I was hoping of inviting them up here. Get a booth for some privacy,” Nino points to said booth, “and hash things out.”

“Don’t you guys live on the same street? Why meet here?” Jun seems genuinely baffled.  
   
Nino is about to say it’s because he owns the place and they’d want to see it, supportive friends that they are, when he stalls. Telling Jun about him owning the bar would lead to him drawing the conclusion that Nino owns the district, because Hymn isn’t 90 days old yet and no one but Rasmussem and Nino would have a share of it. There's something oddly safe about telling Jun about things taking place in a world he doesn’t see, the same way there’s something threatening about revealing to Jun that he’s actually made money off every credit Jun has spent in this bar.  
   
“O-kun escaped to Kagoshima in June,” says Nino, and it’s not an entirely bullshit excuse. “Adventum’s the only way we get to meet him in person.”  
   
“Ah.” Jun nods. “That makes sense.”

Nino pillows his head on both his hands again. “It might not be the best plan since I have no idea what we’ll talk about, but I think the first step is getting all of them together in the same space.”

“So you’re gonna wing it?” Jun raises his eyebrows.

“More like I’m going to grin like an idiot at all of them and pretend I’m not a jerk by forcing them to update each other about how they’ve been.”

Jun sighs. “I wish I had better suggestions, but that seems just about all you can do.”

“Yeah,” says Nino morosely, “it’s a gamble on whether or not they’ll talk at all. Or whether they’d even show up.”

Jun stares at him for a moment, then tugs on his arm.

“Come on,” says Jun, suddenly animated and alive, “I have someplace to take you. It’ll cheer you up.” There is a boyish gleam in Jun’s eyes, charming Nino utterly; he finds the invitation impossible to turn down, and lets himself be dragged out of his seat.  
   
They leave the bar, and Nino clamps down on a squeak when Jun grabs his shoulders and drives him, choo choo train style, towards one of the belts that transport people all around Hymn, moving pathways of meandering starlight that Nino knew would be a hit with couples. He feels his ears burn as he realises he’s inadvertently classified themselves with his target audience, and is glad the world is in perpetual night so Jun can’t really see how red he’s getting.  
   
The belt ascends into the space overhead, and Jun finally lets go of Nino to wander to the edge where there’s a barrier of mist to prevent people from falling, defying physics by being completely perceptible by touch.  
   
“I didn’t notice it at first, but the walkways—they’re musical staves, and there are notes and symbols sort of _masquerading_ as stars. It’s crazy how beautiful it is,” marvels Jun out loud, letting his head fall back so he’s looking up above, where ribbons of light weave in and out of the swirling nebulae to form bridges and intersections.

Nino can’t stop smiling; Jun is captivated by what is, in fact, Nino’s handiwork. He feels embarrassingly accomplished.

“Is this what you mean by cheering me up? Bringing me on a tour of Hymn?” teases Nino. “I prefer faster transport, you know.”

Jun laughs. “No, I have a destination in mind. Just… ride with me for a bit.”

When they get high enough he switches sides to look down at the neon city that’s sprawled out beneath them, pointing out landmarks he recognises. Nino tries not to sound too knowledgeable as they exchange information about Hymn, admitting to himself that it’s actually a lot of fun pretending he doesn’t know the world like the back of his hand. It’s nice to be able to see it through someone else’s eyes for a change, and it thrills Nino to have those eyes be Jun’s.

“We have to switch to that one,” Jun points to a belt beneath them, impressing Nino with how well he knows the place despite it being open barely a week. “Come on.”  
   
Together they tread down a gentle slope, approaching an intersection where they switch to the correct walkway, and continue making their way across the sky.

As they carry on their journey Nino probes relentlessly—he wants to know where Jun is taking him—but Jun refuses to divulge anything, claiming that he’s probably the only one who has discovered it and it’ll be a sin to spoil it for Nino. It is only when they start their descent into the heart of the world that Nino chances a silent guess, but it seems too good to be true. Nino hides a grin in his elbow, wondering if Jun has found what he thinks he found; and if he truly has, Nino thinks he might actually give a chance to this one, fall in love with him for real.  
   
They walk off the belt. Nino’s body sways, unable to catch up with the laws of inertia as the ground finally stops moving under his feet. Jun fares no better, and they laugh as they cling onto each other to steady themselves. They finally manage to overcome the sensation after a few seconds, and Jun motions for Nino to follow him when a familiar guitar riff pierces the air.

Nino realises the music is playing in his head—it’s Aiba. How timely.

“ _Respond_ ,” Nino commands, stopping in his tracks as the line connects.

“No, no, no; no way,” Jun protests, laughing through his groan, “ _you’re_ getting a call? Now?”

Nino holds up a hand to signal for Jun to wait as he speaks to Aiba. “Hey, yeah. I’ll be out soon. Yeah. Bye.” Nino offers Jun his most apologetic look. “I should go. A-kun’s at my place.”  
   
“But J-kun wants to bring you someplace _magical_ ,” says Jun, waving his hand in an arc for emphasis.

It catches Nino by surprise: Jun’s flyaway comment, coupled with that silly action and a ridiculous smile, has Nino arrested by laughter; he doubles over, covering his face, pressing the tips of his fingers against his eyelids to stem his tears. When he looks up, he sees Jun putting out his arms for him to hold; Nino clutches at them gratefully, righting himself.

“Come on, Nino. It wasn’t that funny,” says Jun, and Nino looks up to see him sporting a sceptical smile.

“It wasn’t,” agrees Nino, “but the way you said it, and the way you looked, compared to how you’ve counselled me these couple of days…” Nino can’t stop a laugh from bubbling over. “It caught me off guard.”

“Off guard enough to convince you to come with me?”

“I’m afraid it’s not going to happen today, Jun-kun. I can’t ditch my friend.”

“But we’ve come so far,” Jun all but whines, and Nino can’t help but chuckle; he finds it cute how Jun is trying to hide his disappointment in his stuttering laughter, punctuating his requests for Nino to stay with repeated prods in Nino’s side. It’s almost childish, and Nino can tell it’s a side of Jun that doesn’t reveal itself to just anyone.

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and the day after next,” says Nino, fending off Jun’s pokes with his hands. “We could meet up.”

“The place is five minutes away!” Jun aims his finger at Nino’s waist once more, but Nino is too quick for him; he grabs Jun’s wrists, apparently not having put much thought into what that would entail, because the next moment sees them pressed up against each other, their faces extremely close.

Jun’s line of vision immediately drifts to Nino’s lips, his intent obvious. Nino gulps, Jun’s pulse under his thumbs reminding him of how real all this can be; he suddenly feels unprepared.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” says Nino again, hastily stepping away, sending up a smile to counter Jun’s forlornness.

“Nino, wait,” Jun calls, his manner frantic, but Nino just waves and leaves.

***

Aiba is frowning at his phone when Nino gets back to the barbershop, and Nino notices how he’s trying hard to feign nonchalance as he keeps the phone in his pocket.

“Hey,” greets Aiba. “We cinched some new contracts today, thanks to you.”

“No problem,” grins Nino, standing up from his seat, “I’m sure it was also partly due to your charm.” He pats the styling chair in front of Aiba. “Come on, I can’t have you parading that haircut in public when the neighbourhood knows you come here.” 

Aiba sits down obediently and lets Nino drape the cape over him. Nino buckles on his belt of styling tools and starts dampening Aiba’s hair, sensing that something is up; Aiba is unusually quiet. 

It takes a whole minute before Aiba speaks. “Nino,” he starts, then falls silent, like he’s changed his mind about holding conversation.

Nino’s hands pause in mid-air. “You do know I could totally make you continue talking by threatening to fuck up your haircut?”

Aiba isn’t amused by Nino’s joke. Instead, he purses his lips and takes a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me your space country is online?” asks Aiba, sounding resentful.

This was unexpected.

“There wasn’t a grand opening; it just happened. And it’s only been open five days. I haven’t seen you since last week,” says Nino, trying not to sound defensive.

“You could have texted.”

“I could have,” agrees Nino, “but it didn’t seem important enough.”

“You’re downplaying your accomplishments again.” Aiba sighs.

“That’s not true. I brag all the time.” Nino resumes his work on Aiba’s hair.

“It’s not the same. You brag for effect, to spice up conversations or to make people laugh so the atmosphere gets more relaxed. You don’t do it for yourself. You don’t reveal your feelings about what’s actually important to you.”

“What can I say? I’m secretly insecure.”

Aiba holds up his hands under the cape in surrender, though Nino knows he’s just hitting pause to avoid further conflict.

Nino wordlessly runs a comb through a section of Aiba’s hair and starts trimming the ends. Aiba isn’t being very upfront, but Nino has known him long enough to read his silences. Aiba, like Sho and Ohno, knows how big a deal Hymn has been to Nino for the past year. Nino hasn’t griped to them about all the difficulties involved in setting up a world within _Adventum_ , but he’s spent enough time away from the real world for his friends to understand how serious he is about it.

The only reason why he hadn’t told Aiba about Hymn’s debut was because he was trying to be tactful—he’d opened up Hymn’s doors just so Ohno could be in an environment where he felt more removed from Aiba’s presence. Nino just found it awkward mentioning it to Aiba himself.

Nino grits his teeth. It’s twisted. Everyone is just trying to be nice, and it isn’t really doing anyone any good. Nino can’t believe he’s let himself be led by the ridiculousness of it all for so long.

“Why didn’t you tell me the manor you gave me was where you and Oh-chan met up?” asks Nino, suddenly not caring if what he’s saying is out of line. Aiba can take his honesty tonight.

Aiba doesn’t reply immediately; he’s stunned at the question, and Nino gets why—it’s come out of left field.

“It wasn’t something I could just bring up in conversation,” says Aiba finally, and Nino realises he hasn’t seen Aiba look so helpless in a long time. “I’m not exactly proud of what I did, and all I wanted was to part with the stuff that reminded me of my mistake.”

“You didn’t actually do anything wrong,” mumbles Nino, reaching for the razor.

“I did.” Aiba’s eyes turn red. “It’s all my fault, Nino. You know that.”

Nino doesn’t. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I made a move on Oh-chan. I started it all. I kept telling him it wasn’t real, so it wouldn’t count.”

Nino blinks. This is the first time he’s hearing this, but it doesn’t change his opinion of things. “It’s not like he just _lay there_ while you had your hands on him.”

“Yes, but I was the one who kissed him first.”

“I’m not going to indulge you and say you get all the blame,” says Nino firmly. “Oh-chan and you _both_ made stupid choices. Sho-chan too, for not making up his damn mind.”

“But none of this would’ve happened if—”

Nino grabs the hair dryer and switches it to turbo, drowning out Aiba’s voice. It’s rude of him, but simple logic tells him Aiba doesn’t have a case.

When Aiba’s hair is dry, Nino checks its balance in the mirror, where Aiba’s eyes find his.

“Why didn’t you tell me you put your space world online?” he asks softly.

Nino sighs and crosses his arms. “So we’re back to this again?”

A crease forms in Aiba’s forehead. “You would have told me, Nino. You would have told me before anyone else. That’s what’s bothering me.”

Nino makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t want to know what you did with Oh-chan in the manor, but it was really awkward for him to be there when I invited him over last week. I opened up Hymn just so he could be someplace else, and we could hang out like regular people.”

“Why did you invite him to the manor?” asks Aiba in disbelief. “Don’t you have other places to meet? Like a tavern or cafe or something?”

“Technically it’s the only home I had in Adventum at the time, and it made sense to invite him there. You can’t fault me on that. You didn’t tell me not to invite him, and you obviously didn’t tell him you gave me the place.” Nino pulls out his thinning shears and snips off some of Aiba’s hair to adjust its volume.

“Nino, you said owning the manor was for show because the game company wanted to see you were managing property.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I can’t _use_ it. It’s my property.”

The conversation is veering further and further away from Nino’s original purpose to guilt Aiba into hanging out with him and Sho on Hymn, and Nino isn’t sure he can get it back on track.

“Look, we’re not arguing about this,” Nino says, a note of finality in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t want to have to explain the bit about the manor, because it involves Oh-chan and things are all weird with you guys right now.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” says Aiba, eyes downcast. “I would’ve been able to take it.”

“Oh, really?” Nino, exasperated, slams his shears on the table, making Aiba jump. “When I mentioned Sho-chan the other day, you called him overwhelming, and asked if we could stop talking about him. And it’s not just you—I talk to Sho-chan, he asks how Oh-chan is, I offer to say hi to Oh-chan for him, he says no. And then you come up in conversation when we’re making cocktails and Oh-chan finds the need to censor himself when he so much as says your name. You guys have been fucking evasive, you know that? You tell me all these bits and pieces, all of them versions of your troubles, and expect me to figure out what went wrong so I can comfort the others on my own. I’m trying my damnedest to be decent by sidestepping the issues that would hit a raw nerve, and you’re telling me I have to be upfront with you?”

In the mirror, Aiba merely hangs his head in response. Nino tears the velcro on the styling cape apart, yanks it off Aiba, and dumps it on the cart beside him.

Nino knows he’s venting, knows his anger might be misdirected. But he also knows there’s truth in what he’s just said, and he’s not taking any of it back.

Then Aiba turns slowly in his chair, looking deflated and impossibly woebegone. It makes Nino’s heart ache when Aiba reaches out to hook his fingers on Nino’s.

“I’m sorry.” Aiba draws a deep breath. “It’s all my fault.”

Nino wants to yell that it isn’t, when he sees Aiba’s lower lip trembling and decides to shut up instead. He pulls Aiba into a hug, and Aiba immediately buries his face in Nino’s shirt.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” says Nino, after a few seconds have gone by.

Aiba shakes his head, pressing his face deeper into Nino’s chest. “I get it,” he says, voice muffled. “You’re caught in the middle. You hate it.”

Nino sighs, deciding tonight’s not the night to bring up meeting Sho. “I don’t need things to be exactly the way they were before. I just want you guys to be able to talk to each other and about each other; to quit the self-censorship, to be able to recount memories like they aren’t taboo. You guys are either too guilty or too hurt to chase away this - this _storm cloud_ that’s hanging over us, and I get shot down for even trying.” Nino swallows the lump in his throat. “Tell me, Aiba-kun—is being friends again really such an unpleasant idea?” 

Aiba retracts from Nino. He keeps his eyes on the front of Nino’s uniform, smoothing down the wrinkles, picking off the runaway snippets of hair, buying time.

“It’s not _unpleasant_ , Nino,” Aiba eventually says, peering up into Nino’s face. “It’s just… I’m afraid they won’t forgive me for everything I did.”

“Look. I told you—you didn’t _do_ anything.”

“I took Oh-chan away from Sho-chan,” says Aiba, expression deadening. “He never looked at anyone but Sho-chan for the longest time, and I destroyed that. I took away his devotion, Nino. I took Oh-chan away from himself.”

Aiba’s words illuminate his predicament with frightening lucidity.

Nino realises what a fool he’s been. He’s completely miscalculated the extent of Aiba’s grief. Aiba hasn’t exhibited any signs of self-reproach until tonight, and Nino can’t imagine how much Aiba has been hurting if he thought it was his doing all this while.

“Fuck.” Nino collapses into the seat beside Aiba’s and roofs his face with his hand, massaging his forehead.

“Nino?”

“Hang on—I’m trying to deal.”

“Nino, if it’s something I said…”

“Not you. Me. Be quiet for a moment. Please.”

Aiba falls silent.

Honesty. And communication. That’s what’s been lacking. And tonight it’s come in droves. One truth resounds within Nino: as much as his friends can’t bear to tell him what went wrong, Nino hasn’t been upfront with his feelings either. He’s found it difficult to express his desire for them to be together again, he’s found it difficult to explain his hatred of being the only one they’re talking to, he’s found it difficult to tell them he wants to know what happened so he can help fix things.

All of that conflict has to end tonight.

Nino levers himself out of his seat and crouches so he can place a hand on Aiba’s shoulder. “I guess I’ve been too careful not to hurt anyone’s feelings, and in the process I’ve avoided asking some very important questions. But that isn’t going to happen anymore. We need to trust each other. We need to talk. Okay?”

Aiba nods, a tear making its way down his cheek.

Nino realises he doesn’t need to swap a favour for a favour to get Aiba on his side, not anymore. This has been the most honest Aiba has been with him in a long time, and Nino knows Aiba will be willing to try and patch things up with the other two if he asks.

But Nino also knows better than to jump the gun. He doesn’t want to put Aiba in a spot; it doesn’t seem right, not when he’s fragile like that…

“Sho-chan texted me.” Aiba sniffles, pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Right before you came back from the game. It’s how I found out your world went online already.”

Aiba shows the screen to Nino, and he quickly scans the message.

_Hi, Aiba-kun. It’s me._

_It’s been a while._

_Nino’s in-game universe just opened to the public, and I was thinking we could all go and show him some support sometime._

_See you around, hopefully soon._

_Sakurai Sho._

Nino’s heart dances as he realises Sho is reaching out. This is progress. He beams at Aiba, only to realise the expression Aiba is wearing doesn’t reflect how Nino feels.

“We had a big fight, Sho-chan and I. Right after Oh-chan told him what happened. He came to my place and we tried really hard not to yell at each other.” Aiba glances at the phone before looking at Nino squarely in the eyes. “This is the first time he’s contacted me since.”

Nino knows nothing about the big fight—so many secrets are being revealed to him tonight, his head is starting to swim—and finally understands why Aiba has been so scrupulous about avoiding Sho.

But it’s okay, Nino tells himself. What matters is that they’re moving forward. That’s the most important thing for them now.

“Sho-chan doesn’t play any games. He’s straightforward.” Aiba holds the phone out to Nino, flapping it at him. “I don’t know what to tell him.”

“…Are you asking me to text him for you?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t do that.”

“But I’m scared.” Aiba heaves a sigh. “He was so upset that night, asking all these questions about whether I have feelings for Oh-chan and why I did it, and then saying something like I could ‘have’ Oh-chan, like he’s a _thing_ , and I got so mad at that… And after Sho-chan left I realised I was even angrier with Oh-chan, because he shouldn’t have told in the first place. Things have been different since. I don’t know how I can look Sho-chan in the eye, when I sort of made Oh-chan cheat on him.”

“Well, you didn’t. There was nothing between them.”

“There was, Nino. You know there was.”

“Largely on Oh-chan’s part, which he probably and wrongly escaped from by doing stuff with you,” finishes Nino bluntly. “Look, I think Sho-chan’s trying to tell you he’s ready to have you back in his life again. Don’t you want that?”

Aiba hesitates. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine Sho-chan liking me very much anymore. I think he might just be doing this for the greater good or something. You know how he’s a fan of self-betterment.” Aiba takes in what he’s just said, then groans. “That’s an awful thing to say about Sho-chan, isn’t it?”

“Talking about one of his best qualities like it’s a sin? Yeah.” Nino lets himself smile, glad that Aiba’s finally opening up. “For what it’s worth, I think he likes you more than you think.”

Nino saves up the rest of what he’s privy to. Aiba obviously knows nothing about the magnitude of Sho’s feelings for him. It makes sense; neither Sho nor Aiba had done anything about their attraction to each other all those years ago. Aiba looks like he’s cooled off, what with the time and the distance that has come between him and Sho. But Sho still loves Aiba, and whether or not Aiba will ever know is up to Sho. It’s not Nino’s place to speak of it.

“Okay,” Aiba clicks a button on his phone to unlock the keypad, “I’ll just tell him I’m looking forward to it, and we’ll leave it to you to arrange a time.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Nino, joy coursing through his entire being. He hasn't felt so lighthearted in a long time. Aiba is looking less elated, but still he proffers a smile; Nino lets out a laugh and sweeps Aiba into a hug.


End file.
